Merchants of Death
by PleaseDeleteAccountAsSoonAsPos
Summary: A violent random shooting in a popular bar leads a group of C-Sec officers searching for clues that have haunted their lives.


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Authors Note: Forgive any grammatical errors; I blame Microsoft Word like all lazy writers do.

Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated to Bioware, Mass Effect so on and so on and so on.

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Normally the Ascent was a place jam packed with every type of alien in Citadel space looking to have a good time and wake up the next day not knowing what had happened to them. Gabriel had visited the club a few times and found it to be crowded for his taste, though the drinks were amazing. Today his visit wasn't for the drinks, it was for the ten bodies corpses residing there.

First he had to push through the small crowd that had gathered outside the Ascent. The double doors leading into the club were surrounded by two heavily armed and grisly looking Turians Special Response officers who gave him a curt look as he flashed his Identification to them before allowing him to pass. The music was off and the lights were on revealing brilliant black scorch marks littering the electric blue walls while the floor was decorated by the pools of blood surrounding the bodies of those who'd died.

The nearest body was that of the C-Sec officer; a Salarian who he knew only by the name of Jaeto. The smell of burnt flesh surrounded his body as Gabriel approached it for further inspection. His advance however was halted by the gruff yet cheerful voice of a Turian. "Lot of bodies in one night eh?" Gabriel turned to see Fallus sporting a grim smile with his arms folded. "Eight civvies, a C-Sec patrol officer, and the shooter; not the best night for the graveyard shift."

Gabriel nodded; "Any information on the shooter?" The corpse which he was referring to was missing the lower portion of his face making the usual identification methods impossible. At least the C-Sec officer had gotten a good shot off before he had a hole in his chest.

Fallus shook his head. "Nothing; he wasn't a local or even a resident here." The Turian grimaced at the bodies. "The civvies were in some gang; I'm betting on a turf war."

Gabriel shook his head as he slowly approached the body. "Doesn't seem to be the type," The Turian merely grunted in disagreement. "What weapon was he carrying anyway?"

"A Stiletto X modified heavily; none of the local dealers even have anything like it." The Turian muttered shaking his head in disbelief. Most of the weapons found on the streets were low class Edge I pistols. Anything else usually was caught by Customs and the few that weapons that weren't found were usually with high ranking mercenaries who used it for intimidation rather than actual usage.

"So this guy just walked in and started shooting?" Gabriel asked in disbelief as he stepped away from the bodies that were now being examined by other C-Sec officers for "future reference" (i.e. gossip talk). Fallus nodded, "From what the witnesses told me he just came in and starting firing at the first people he saw in the club. C-Sec officer came by a few minutes later and shot the man but not before he went down as well. Special Response teams showed up a couple of minutes later."

Gabriel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "So we've got no motive; no idea who the shooter was and no idea where he got the weapon?" The Turian nodded once more and he let out a sigh of frustration. Why wasn't this ever easy?

"Are you coming to the C-Den tomorrow?" Gabriel cracked him a wry smile. The actual name of the place was the Drinkers Den but since so many C-Sec officers came to the place off duty it was commonly referred to as the 'C-Den'. Even Executor Pallin had come there occasionally; though only if his wife was nagging him (it was good to know that every species had something in common with each other).

"And miss out seeing the drinking competition between you and Vera? I only hope you win this time." Fallus offered him a predatory grin. The Asari and the Turians' drinking contests were as much tradition as they were legendary. He'd once seen the 500 year old Asari down fifteen shots of Turian ale...in one go. If that wasn't crazy nothing else was.

Their grins faded away however as they heard the clamouring outside. Fallus sneered as he saw the door guards forcing some the local media back. If it was one thing the Turian hated more than anything in the world it was journalists. Not to say Gabriel couldn't agree with him.

"They're going to have a field day with this!" Gabriel muttered with Fallus nodding in approval and agreement. The local media had become increasingly critical of C-Sec, especially after an incident where one of the local anchormen was arrested on charges of possession of Red Sand; the drug of choice for the high rollers these days.

"You better get to the office and prepare a report; I'll talk to Pallin keeping this clean." Gabriel nodded his thanks before making his way to the doors that was blocked by a literal wall of crazed reporters. This night was just getting better and better...

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Now if you've gotten this far you either like it, dislike it or are "meh". So why not tell me where to improve?


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